


Christmas Memories

by ashcat



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Christian Holidays, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 18:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashcat/pseuds/ashcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If they had known this would be their last Christmas together it might have been different. Sam and Al friendship fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyburg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyburg/gifts).



> HUGE thanks to Storiesfortravelers for making this 100x better with her feedback and to damietta and afiawri for their cheerleading :) -- Merry Christmas Kyburg and my fellow yuletide participants!

Christmas 1996 saw Project Quantum Leap behind schedule -- a frequent state, sadly. Many of the staff had offered to stay, but it was only Sam and Al who had worked straight through Christmas Eve and Day. There was an electrical problem in the control room and the wiring was being stubborn. At least Ziggy was functional enough to play Christmas music for them, even if she constantly asked about the meaning behind the songs.

Al had laughed himself nearly into stitches listening to Sam patiently explain why _Baby it’s cold outside_ was not a song about forced imprisonment.

They had knocked off early Christmas Day, but only because Al had badgered Sam. Honestly, Sam needed Al to remind him that he, unlike Ziggy, wasn’t a hybrid super computer, and that they both needed to rest so they could come at the problem refreshed the next day. Al had settled into his role of ensuring Sam wasn’t _all_ work and no play.

After washing up -- because even though it was December it was still hot in the desert -- Al stood in front of their tiny dime store tree. Tina had bought it as a present for them when she found out they weren’t going anywhere for Christmas. Al, who really enjoyed Christmas, had appreciated it. Standing there in his shiny silver suit with the dark red shirt and tie he looked at the little tree, feeling very festive. Al grinned as he saw the flashing lights on his tree tie tack joining the little trees merry blinking.

Sam had been indifferent about the tree, the entire holiday really, which had surprised Al. Yet, it made sense when he’d considered how unhappy Sam’s Christmas present must be compared to Christmas’s past. Al had seen the letter that Sam had received from his mother, how she and Katie had hoped Sam could come out to Hawaii to see them. He’d wondered why Sam didn’t go, but he hadn’t pressed.

Al knew all about ghosts that lingered long after they’d passed into memory.

Al’s own Christmas memories were blunted by time, so he could appreciate the holiday, remember fondly how much Trudy had loved it. Beth had loved it too. She and Al had decorated their small base houses with care. They hadn’t had a lot of money, but they’d had more than enough love to fill their homes until it felt like they were bursting with treasures.

Thoughts of Beth and happy Christmases together surrounded Al as he turned out all the lights but those on the tiny tree, letting the tiny bulbs shine brightly..

Sam walked in and they shared a look. The men were so different not only in dress -- Sam had on his jeans and green sweater -- but also in life experiences, personalities. Sam may have been a genius, but he was ignorant about a lot of things Al was the expert in, and vice versa.

Al knew he’d made the right call on how to spend their evening when Sam came over and wrapped him in a big bear hug with a whispered, “Thanks.”

They shared a moment, just enjoying the tree, before retreating to the kitchen to prepare supper.

“I thought you were going to rest,” Al admonished as he slid the main dish onto their table. It barely fit with Sam’s papers strewn all over it.

“Just fiddling with a the retrieval equation.” Sam rolled his eyes but started gathering up his papers. He didn’t bother to keep them in order, Al noted. Sam’s crazy smart brain would be able to pick right up where he left off later.

Sam set the table then, while Al brought the rest of the food in.

“Who do I have to thank for this meal?” Sam asked.

“Why, me of course,” Al said with a grin. “Oh, and a lovely lady who loved these itty bitty pink babydoll nighties.”

“Al!” Sam shook his head. “You know what I meant.”

Al winked at Sam and his disapproval. “Sharon, wife number four, who cooked quite well compared to the canteen.” Al laughed as he sat down at the table; that wasn’t saying much.

Neither of them remarked on the contents of dinner, though they’d both had plenty of better holiday meals, as they sat down to their baked ham (warmed up from a tin) with boxed macaroni and cheese and canned peas. Al held up the plate of Texas toast and said, “This was all me though.”

The meal wasn’t much, but Al had grown used to eating whatever was set before him long ago and Sam-- well he had learned to make do with whatever was at hand when he remembered to eat.

Sam wasn’t much of a physician when it came to his own health, Al thought.

As they started to eat, Al watched Sam dig into the meager meal and smiled, glad he could do this one small thing for his friend. Sam looked like he appreciated it; he always appreciated everything Al did for him. They didn’t talk about how Beth or Ma Beckett would have had a spread fit for a king. Hopefully, if Sam’s invention worked, they wouldn’t have another lonely Christmas next year.

Al frowned the, noticing Sam’s eyes suddenly staring off into the distance. “You want some more peas?”

Sam shook his head. “Do you ever think about how things would’ve been different if Trudy were here? I was just thinking about Tom.”

Al winced hearing his sister’s name. Her absence was still a painful subject but he knew Sam wasn’t trying to hurt him with the question. “Yes. I think about her a lot. When I was leaving for that second tour in Vietnam I thought how Trudy could have stayed by Beth, kept each other company while I was gone.”

After Al had been taken prisoner, he found himself grateful that Trudy wasn’t around. She would have worried and it’d have been difficult for her to understand that he was missing and nobody was doing a damn thing to find him.

 _Al_ hadn’t quite been able to understand that one himself, even now.

“I mean, that’s part of why I wanted to work with you on this idea of yours. So I could go back and at least see her.” Al also hoped that he could help her, and help Beth too.

Sam gave Al a warning look. “You know we can’t change our own timelines.”

“We don’t know how things will play out once we get it working,” Al shrugged. Hell, it was debatable if they’d ever accomplish leaping at all.

Sam smiled. “I bet she’d have believed in my idea, in time travel.”

Al laughed. “She would have. She liked pretending that we were in different time periods. I think she’d have gotten a kick out of it.”

“I think my dad would have just laughed at me,” Sam said, soberly.

Al took a long drink of wine to give himself a moment to think. When he spoke next, his words were measured, careful. “Sam, your dad would have near burst with pride that his son had accomplished so much. He would have respected that you were trying to make a positive difference in so many lives with that amazing brain of yours.”

Sam looked at Al, earnest. “You really think so?”

Al smiled back, reassuringly. “Of course. I think he and Tom both would have been so proud they could barely stand it.”

Sam shared a relieved look with Al, then spoke again, changing the subject. “I’ve been thinking about how to try to pinpoint where we travel. After we perfect traveling at all. I just know we could make it work so that we could pinpoint an exact time and place.”

Al often wondered if Sam secretly did have hopes of fixing some of his own past. Despite Sam being the person who wrote the rules.

“Maybe Ziggy can help you with the calculations for that tomorrow. Well, if she can be bothered to care about that instead of just pestering us.”

“She’s just a hybrid computer in search of knowledge,” Sam said, innocently.

“Ziggy will be the death of one of us with her endless questions. I thought I was going to bust a gut listening to you explain the nonsense wordings in Christmas songs.” Al grinned, lightening the mood again.

Sam chuckled, always a proud papa of his girl. “She’s learning. She has so many memory banks to fill with knowledge and experience that can’t be gleaned from archives and government records alone.”

“She really is amazing.” Al was still a bit in awe of Sam’s genius, and that he was able to build a computer that had its own consciousness.

“She is.” Sam grinned. “She will always be my first baby.”

Al laughed. “You’re hoping to have more?”

Sam shrugged. Al wasn’t a fan of the cagey look he had, that one meant that Sam Beckett was scheming, which wasn’t always a good thing.

“I wanted to have a boy and a girl. I always thought it’d be fun to have one of each, just like Trudy and me.”

“ _Just_ like Trudy and you?” Sam clarified.

Al shrugged. “I loved Trudy with all my heart. If I had a baby like her, I’d feel blessed since she was always so happy when we were together.”

Sam smiled. “You would have been hell on a daughter’s boyfriend.”

“Damn right I would! I know how the male mind operates.” Al squinted, imagining some punk boy pawing his imaginary daughter.

“More than is good for you.”

“Hey! You said the stories of my love life provided good entertainment while we were swimming in sweat trying to build that rust bucket.”

Sam shook his head but Al could see his smile.

They finished eating in a companionable silence. Sam did the washing up while Al put away the leftovers. They took the remaining part of their bottle of wine with them to sit on the sofa. Al turned the lights off again so they could sit in the glow of the tree.

When I was living on the farm, dad would always read us the Christmas story directly from Luke, and then Katie and I would sing while I played piano.”

“Tom didn’t sing?”

“Tom had a lovely voice, he just refused to use it. Mom would sing with us sometimes, but she mainly liked to hear me play.”

“I wish I had gotten to hear you play at Carnegie Hall.”

Sam shrugs. “No piano here, but I have my guitar. I could get it?”

Al sat up, grinning. “Sammy!”

Sam smiled good-naturedly and got up, sitting his mostly full wine glass on the table as he went to his room.

Al drained his own glass and then Sam’s as he felt the memories he was trying not to think about crowd in. He could almost feel the bugs crawling on him in that tiny tiger cage, the alcohol burning his eyes from where he’d been given a ‘drink’ in honor of the American Christmas holiday. He breathed through his nose, trying to calm himself.

Sam came back and frowned upon seeing Al. He sat down and carefully laid a hand on Al’s shoulder, talking to softly to Al until he was no longer rigid with tension. After a few minutes, Al took a few deep breaths then looked at Sam, feeling calmer again. He nodded towards the guitar that was laying on the floor by Sam.

“What, you expect a tip before you’ll play a song for us?” Al tried on a smile, it made his face feel tight but he knew he’d get back into the spirit if he just jumped right back in.

“Yeah, I want to know how to be a ladies man like you,” Sam winked at Al then gave his shoulder another squeeze before picking up his guitar to tune it.

“You need more help than the great Calavicci can give you.” Sam always knew how to handle Al’s flashbacks. It was part of what made them such a good team. Sam was so good at seeing it on Al’s face, Al never had to say a thing. As he slumped back against the sofa, Al let his mind wander towards happier memories, ones from before the war. He found one he wanted to share with Sam and began to tell his story as Sam strummed his guitar, making sure it was in key.

“The last Christmas we had with my dad, he had worked overtime so that he could get us each a present that we wanted.” Al smiled, remembering how happy his father had been, watching them opening their presents. “We went to midnight mass as usual. Trudy looked like an angel in her white dress, her dark hair curled.” Al grinned. “I had done it up for her special, with white ribbons too.”

Al heard a noise from Sam and looked over. “Hey! I was good at styling her hair, someone had to take care of her with dad at work so much.’

Sam put up an apologetic hand, the guitar falling silent momentarily. “Sorry, sorry. Continue.”

“After mass, we were allowed to open our presents as Santa had come while we were at church.” Al let his eyes fall closed, seeing it again. “My dad was nearly as excited as we were. I wanted a new ball and glove, and I got them. Trudy had desperately wanted a Tammy doll, just like our neighbor had, and she got one too, with a change of clothes.”

Al opened his eyes to look at Sam again. “That was the best Christmas we ever had. A year later, dad was gone and Trudy and I were sent away.”

Sam reached out and laid a hand on Al’s knee. “You did the best you could for her,” he reminded Al quietly.

“Wasn’t enough.” It would _never_ be enough. Trudy had died waiting for Al to come rescue her.

Sam gave his guitar another strum. “Ready to sing? What was Trudy’s favorite Christmas song?”

“Joy to the world.”

Sam started singing, with Al joining in on the second stanza. They sang songs for the next while, telling stories in between. Tom, Sam’s father, Beth -- all their favorite songs were played, complete with a happy holiday memory to share.

Al had been shocked that Sam knew _Christmas in Vietnam_ and if he got a bit misty-eyed thinking about all his friends who never made it home, Sam had the same going on so it was okay.

As Sam let the last chord on _Silent Night_ fade, they leaned back the sofa, relaxing. Al couldn’t help but think about all the things he’d change if he could go back in time. All the decisions he’d do differently.

“Sam, do you really think we’ll do it? Time travel?”

Sam looked thoughtful as he considered Al’s question. “I think that it’s possible. I think that my theories and calculations are sound. I don’t know if we’ll have the _time_ to get it ready before they muck with our funding.”

“So unless that government makes it go a little caca, you think it’ll work?”

A slow smile crept over Sam’s face. “Yes Al, I think it’ll work.”

Al stood and stretched. “Well, I think it’s time for me to hit the hay before I conk out right here.”

Sam stood too, his guitar still on the sofa. He stepped close and hugged Al close to him.

“Merry Christmas, Al.”

Al gave Sam a tight squeeze in return. “Merry Christmas, Sam. Good night.”

That night, Al dreamed of Trudy and Beth, of getting there in time to keep them with him. He woke the next morning filled with purpose again. He had a feeling that he’d see them again; the past would no longer be set in stone.


End file.
